Divine Intervention
by MetaLucario
Summary: Gods always play favorites, at least that's what Sephiroth's musings led him to decide. It didn't mean he was going to let Cloud know why he was the chosen favorite in this case. at least, not yet. Cloud!centric pov first chapter. Vingette


A/N: so this started as like four different ideas that I was texting my boyfriend about, and bam I mixed them. And added _**mild**_ yaoi for those of you who are into it... It's skippable and not even remotely ooc or far fetched. Some Yuri too.

Anyway, mostly canon, some interesting head canon too. The head canon is the very foundation of this story though... And the canon (which so many people are unaware of, and it pisses me off. All of these people on the Internet like "I saw the movie so I know everything" or those who play the game but don't pay attention.) it's explicitly mentioned, and not in any underhanded way that could be called sketchy- the only sketchy thing about it is that the one who said it was Hojo... But there were other people backing him up- Cloud included (and the fact that he was in one of his mind controlled moments as well proves this) no people, Sephiroth was not, I repeat _**not**_ forced, coerced, manipulated, or controlled in any way. At all! Read the novellas as well, there is absolutely no grounds in the theory that he was not in control at any point. Insane, yes. Manipulated, no. He was behind all of it, _**all.**_ So no, this will most definitely not be a stupid redemption fic with a happy loving couple, or tragic suicide ending. Sorry, but I hate those fics... With a burning passion. It's not even remotely feasible. And no, they do not want to kill each other. Leave it at that.

The head canon is entirely relations and family based, so there's that little bit of deviation... Aside from plot deviations. I'll put links on my profile if you want to check my facts from earlier later, as I know some will want to argue against me (it's not like the fact that he's really just evil himself can full on prevent fangirling or anything... And all the over sexifying is _**really**_ annoying. So that's the end of the rant now...

So um... All my normal clerith vincecloud clouseph and vincretia shipping is still the relationship base in this story. As for yuri and other het couples... I'll have a poll up for it so that the few of you who do read this can vote on them.

I don't even own their literal shit. It all belongs to square.

It was... Cold. Not biting or sharp cold, just a minimal amount of warmth in the air, enough for a sweater and mild shivering. The way it always is come mid December in small towns with moderate weather- perhaps thirty degrees as the high, maybe fourty. Twenty at night, with fires just warm enough to allow aching bodies to rest comfortably in the warm wood paneled inn, all the din of the patrons quieted by the approach of nightfall, the sun's last rays barely streaming over the horizon- much like the fingers of a small child clinging to the edge of a quilt. The air was crisp as the blonde walked slowly out of the wide double doors, the smell of grass and rain swirling through the light breeze teased the spikey halo surrounding the young man's troubled face. He'd made certain the others were asleep, not wanting to disturb them with his sudden melancholy at recounting the events of five years ago... (Naturally he forgot it had been seven years.) The smell of fire in his memory (the acrid stench of smoke burning his lungs and constricting his throat, the charred wood and burnt flesh asailing his nostrils with its sickly sweet clusters of horrid stench that clung to him in heavy globs), contrasted with the peaceful, starlit skies and clean air of Kalm as he mulled over the conflicting swarm of thoughts assaulting him. If se- if _he_ was really back... Cloud shuddered, recalling the sadistic gleam in the electric jade color of those eyes, the smirk as the tall man turned in a slow sweep, all grace and poise and elegantly blown hair shashaying around the man's well kept leather boots as the flames engulfed him. He wondered why that was the only part he remembered so vividly, and so completely... Nothing else, not the very last time he'd seen his mom, or what stores he'd entered. All he remembered was that man, so imposing and commanding of a presence at his unnatural height, with those pale gleaming eyes and starlight colored hair. And something deeper. The man he remembered radiated control, precision, intelligence. In retrospect he wasn't ever entirely sane (but Cloud wasn't convinced of his own sanity either). But he was like the embodiment of perfection, with strikes so clean and beautiful in the same way as a panther slinking after prey- almost on a level unto something out of legend. But then, that precision was replaced by indescriminant destruction, and fire and death. So many bodies, all the people he'd known, grown up with, dead. Dead. Dead and burned beyond recognition while his hero looked on him with a countenance of smug insanity, pure destructive madness that had been suppressed for oh so long. But there were still so many holes (what had happened anyway? What was the foggy grey negative in his mind? But the thought of it faded all too soon to consider.) so many thoughts and scenes unplayed, too much forgotten, buried deep in the unsearchable reaches of his mind and hidden from his view. Maybe it was amnesia. The entire trip was traumatic enough- but that didn't explain why he forgot the happy, cheerful memories. There was no sweet in his mind, only bitter. He had to finish this, end the man. (But why did his anger feel so empty?) Cloud dropped the broken glass shard he'd unconsciously taken hold of in his reverie, watching it thud against the ground as it rejoined with the rest of the broken liquor bottle on the dirt path. A slight trickle of his blood descended with it, the crimson fluid a steadily growing dark blotch were it landed in a small puddle, no bigger than his pinky. He stomped on the shards, the loud crunching noise was satisfying, and the feeling of breaking something relieved some of his tension- if only a minuscule amount. He kept walking, he needed to clear his mind, and this wasn't helping. The grassland outside the village was wet with the beginnings of dew, his breath a white fog, visible against the royal blue-violet back drop of the night sky. He kept a firm grip on his sword, (just the simple Hardedge he'd snatched escaping Midgar,) for use in the case that anything leapt out of the shadows with bared fangs- but he noticed that everything was oddly still and quiet. As though the monsters were hiding from something even more intimidating than themselves. (Not that oversized motorcycles were all that frightening to begin with.) Cloud soon knew why as he felt a sudden chill along his spine. There was an indescribable tugging sensation that was near impossible to locate for certain, and a wanting, yearning call in his veins, his head, his heart. He dismissed it, assuming it was nothing but the echoing remnant of the hero worship he'd felt before, as the sight of silver covered his vision. Those imposing eyes, gazed at him, steady and smug, the pure confidence in the other man's face taking his breath away as he looked. Cloud tensed, prepared to dash away at any second, but strong arms wrapped around him, keeping him in place, the cruel, calculating, and confident eyes turning his legs to led, as he held the stare. He was confused, and uncertain, but that didn't mean he would back down... (But that tugging feeling was increasingly growing stronger, and he felt as though his resolve was peeled away like a scab or a candy wrapper.) before long, he turned his face, the first to break the stare under the immense pressure of that gaze that felt as though it was looking through him. Cloud opened his mouth to speak-

"Hush." The man's voice cooed against his ear, the cold feeling of a leather clad finger laid over his lips to silence him. The man pulled away, slowly taking a tentative step back before turning, head still facing Cloud like they had then amidst the fire, so commanding and imperious and the tugging became a yanking, pulling _need. "Come." _The man said, and Cloud swore it wasn't just out loud, but in his mind and coursing through him. He followed the random compulsion to do exactly that. He stayed close behind the taller figure, following him deeper, deeper. There was a cave not very far from where they were, and the moon cast an even whiter glow to the man's pale complexion, and ivory-silver hair. They were far enough from civilization that if he screamed, Cloud was certain no one would hear. (Why had he followed this cruel, demonic, deity-esque entity here? Wasn't that counterproductive, especially since he wasn't really convinced he could kill the man...?) He decided he wanted some answers.

"What's going on- why-" he was cut off by the man's fingers shushing him again.

"Soon, Cloud. Soon you will know, and everything will be as it should be." The fingers on his lips moved around to cup his chin. The man laughed, a soft, cruel laugh that made his hair stand on end (but it already did that naturally), and sent a series of prickling sensations down his back. (was it fear or excitement? He felt oddly bubbly and couldn't seem to recall the hate he felt for this same man all of a sudden.) "And then, no one will be able to save you from the truth hidden away in plain sight. No one, Cloud, but me." The bubbly, giddy feeling went cold, he remembered a sensation that felt like boiling, building heat and so much pressure like a tea kettle filled with steam. Hurt, anger, rage suddenly hit him again, before they faded. A blank void, black and dark and terrible replaced them, it's horrid vortex reeling him in against his will, and he couldn't fight it. He knew what caused the void, could feel it moving caressing him in ways he was sure he'd never wanted, yet it still felt good somehow- the way he imagined self harm from punching a wall would at first, before the angsty thoughts receded. The soft tickling on his lips was gentle, most carefull- as though he were a fragile porcelain doll, or a piece of glass about to shatter into thousands of tiny shards in the floor and leave sharp fragments that were difficult to remove, but hurt like hell to step on. The cold lips brushing his broke away without much hurry, then left. A faint feeling remained, a feather light presence. The man's breath ghosted over his face, his cheeks were slightly reddened, a dusting of light rosy color that accented the sapphire depths that were his eyes. The taller man chuckled at the color, the breaths growing stronger and shorter as a result. Cloud opened his mouth to speak, entirely unsure of how he should feel.

"Wha..." He started to ask, then stopped, very confused. As he thought, however, the confusion became rage- what the fuck was that? He glared at the man, his own sapphire blue eyes glowing a livid cobalt color, as he shook with unbridled anger. "What the fuck was... Why did you... Ack-" he was cut off from his incoherent ranting by another, more chaste kiss. When his lips were free again, he tried to retch. His gag reflex wouldn't activate an he sat there looking like a mentally challenged fish for the next ten minutes, visibly shaking with what he repeatedly told himself was anger and disgust and hatred. A hand gently cradled his face.

"Come now, Cloud, I believed you were more intelligent than this. Or are you just that innocent? Ah, I forget myself- you aren't. It was what it felt like, and you seemed to enjoy it while it was going on- or am I just being arrogant to assume as much?"

"W...why...?" The blonde responded silently, his mumbled reply nearly drowned out by his heavy breathing and trembling muscles.

"Why not? It felt like a good idea- marking _my_ territory before that Cetra girl could take it away." He smirked as he said this. Cloud took a massive step back, trying to put as much distance between himself and the psychopath before him as possible.

"That makes no sense! And I'm not anyone's territory!" His blue eyes closed. "Didn't you say you were-" but he looked, and the man was no where to be seen. All Cloud found was a single black feather, it's bristles the darkest pitch of ebony, not even a slight reflection on its surface.

"I swear it was nothing. Honestly Tifa!" A very flustered Cloud exclaimed to the raven haired woman hovering over him with an excessive amount of bandages in her hand, her warm, chocolate-colored eyes wide and soft with worry. "Just cut my self on a branch as I was walking. That's it."

"But-" She started...

"It is a tiny scratch. Besides," a tinkling voice chimed then, and giggled rather amused, "there is a much easier way to do this..." Glimmering forest green orbs loomed closer, wide open and beautifully framed by a delicate face, with a small upturned nose, high cheekbones, and pale pink lips. A pale, long-fingered hand closed over the blonde's own, gashed open one. With a slight golden glow, and a sudden emmitance of a comfortable warmth, the wound closed. A sound like bells and piano keys followed. Aerith was laughing at him... Cloud arched one brow. "Your face. Your blushing and it's rather cute."

"Jus' git a room aw'ready you two." A burly man called from the doorway. "We gotta move. Freaky ain't gonna find 'imself for us." His gun-arm waved everyone out individually as they left the inn. Cloud suppressed a shiver at the slight feeling he was being watched by... something. Opting instead to calmly fall into step beside the strange flower girl, he took to admiring the shining natural highlights accenting her mousy brown hair, and the way the end of her braid whipped back and forth across her thigh with each bubbly bounce-step she took. He felt soft fingers, cold with the winter breeze, weave their way around his own. He looked over and basked in the warmth of her smile. He hoped last night was just a dream. He'd been found passed out in the forest- that's all it was then. A dream.

They'd only met her two days ago, and Cloud already decided he regretted asking Yuffie to join them. Here they were, disguised and stowed away on a Shinra boat- trying, not succeeding at the moment, but trying to find out if Sephiroth really was on the boat or not, and she was... puking... and ...robbing people that came near them. And he was trying to get down into the room where the Shinra employees had said there was a disturbance. Even if Barret's sailor disguise was distracting in that potential black mail sort of way, he had to retrieve everything from the corpses, because it might be a clue as to the man's whereabouts. After salvaging what he could, Cloud went toward the back of the room, only to find the very person he sought phasing through the wall like a specter or the ghosts in the Gold Saucer's hotel. Aerith gasped behind him, Tifa nearly collapsed in shock- and Cloud, he simply stared. He was shaking. He felt gloved fingers on his chin, cradling his face just like in the forest that night.

"Cloud," the man drew out his name with a certain fondness and...something else- like one would speak to a favorite pet, or a younger sibling, "look at me." The man's fingers snapped his face up. Cloud grudgingly flicked his eyes up to stare into the acid green pools that were Sephiroth's eyes.

"What do _you_ want?" Cloud nearly growled. Maybe it hadn't been a dream.

"Let him go!" To Cloud's surprise, it was Aerith who spoke- her voice chiming like pretty little bells, but bubbling with some of her firy rage. Their stairdown broke as Sephiroth's eyes moved to glare daggers at the brunette.

"Hm... I don't believe I should." The tall man replied. Cloud felt the fingers on his chin tighten, pulling him forward in the process. His head smacked into the bottom of Sephiroth's shoulder armor, and he felt the man's other hand holding his arm to keep him in place. "As for your question, Cloud, I do believe I told you before that you will know soon enough." And with a whirl, he threw the blonde back and charged with a drawn sword, Cloud barely pulling his own out in time to block. As their blades came together with a clash, a loud clang that echoed throughout the control room, Sephiroth gazed down at Cloud with a goading eyes and an amused smirk. "Hm, so you've improved. Good." His pale features seemed almosted imperceptibly illuminated with pride, his expression pleased.

"Why do you care?" Cloud called through his sudden flashback ( that same man, facing away but familiar and so respected and admired as he sliced and slashed with exact strike with such practiced ease, and Crimson scales and ebony blood from a Nibel Dragon coating his thin blade, all six feet embedded in the beasts scaly hide as it screamed. The man's face hovering over him murmuring assurances and healing him with powerful magic) he felt ashamed at the memory. "Now I'm more likely to get in the way... Back then I was useless and a hindrance, but now that I'm against you, you're glad I'm stronger?" He shook his head in confusion.

"Where did you get the idea we were going to remain as enemies for any length of time?"

"What do mean?" But he'd already left, again. Cloud was vaguely aware of the girls worrying over him, and Nanaki expressing concern from across the room. Barrett was too confused to grasp what happened, but he was worried about what little he understood. Cloud shook them off and maintained that they were still moving forward, even if this grew confusing.


End file.
